


Training Claws

by NyxErchomai



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-19
Updated: 2013-08-19
Packaged: 2017-12-24 00:28:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/932983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyxErchomai/pseuds/NyxErchomai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liv might have inherited Stiles' impatience, too. </p><p>Stiles/Cora future!fic, written for thestilinskimen on tumblr</p>
            </blockquote>





	Training Claws

“But Dad, why is this so hard?” Liv whines, her face scrunching with the intensity of her concentration.   
Stiles smiles gently, and leans down to smooth the creases from her forehead. “Just relax,” he tells her kindly, and she opens her eyes to glare at him. She crosses her arms with as much indignant annoyance as a six year old can muster.  
“I’m concentrating,” she tells him. “Like you told me.”   
Behind him, Stiles hears Cora snicker indistinctly. He shoots a glare over his shoulder, but its effect is lessened by the fond smile on his face. He turns back to Liv, and takes her small hand in his.  
“Try again,” he instructs her. “But don’t strain yourself.”

After a momentary pause, his daughter closes her eyes and exhales deeply. For a moment nothing happens, and then Stiles feels her fingers tighten on his. He tries not to hiss and pull away as her fingernails elongate, but the discomfort is momentary as Liv’s concentration slips and she loses her grasp on it. With a noise of frustration, she stomps her feet and huffs loudly. Laughing, Stiles pulls her into his arms, and her pout turns into laughter as he swings her off her feet.

Cora shifts over as Stiles carries Liv to the couch, and smiles at their daughter as she positions herself on Stiles’ knee.   
“You’re doing so great,” Cora says, leaning over the swell of her belly to ruffle the young werewolf’s hair.  
Liv blows a strand from her face and huffs again. “My claws didn’t even come out all the way,” she replies, looking down at her fingers. Her voice is harsh, but Stiles can see the disappointment in the curl of her lip. Cora’s does the same, he realizes, and smiles faintly. 

Meanwhile, Cora is reassuring Liv that control will come with time. “I was eleven before I could change at will.”  
Liv frowns. “Drew can already do that, and he’s nine.” she mutters darkly.   
Stiles sighs softly, pulls Liv properly up onto his lap, and taps her gently on the nose. “You and Drew are two different people,” he reminds her. “Some things that he’s good at you won’t be good at.”   
Liv’s eyes widen. “B-but Drew’s good at everything!” she exclaims, and Stiles is horrified to see tears in her wide brown eyes. “Does – does that mean I won’t be good at anything?” To Stiles’ dismay, Liv’s bottom lip begins to tremble.

Cora smacks Stiles on the arm, rolling her eyes and clicking her tongue loudly. “Good one,” she mutters, and leans over to pull Liv to her side. Stiles sees the look of irritation on her face as her stomach stops her from properly hugging her visibly distraught daughter.   
“Damn baby,” she mumbles, but she pats the bump affectionately before turning to soothe Liv.  
“What your dad meant,” she begins, wiping Liv’s tears away with a thumb, “is that you’re good at some things that Drew isn’t good at.”  
“L-like what?” Liv asks, and her eyes get so wide that Stiles is worried they’ll fall out.   
Cora’s lips twitch with the ghost of a smile. “You’re good at dancing.” She shoot Stiles a look (You got that from your dad, is what she’s thinking, he can tell), and he smirks. “You’re good in school.” Her eyebrow quirks imperceptibly, and Stiles puts another tally next to Got That From Your Dad.

Cora leans down and kisses Liv on the nose, and Liv giggles. Stiles can’t help but laugh, and Cora’s hand finds his instinctively. Stiles laces his fingers through hers, and leans closer.   
“Drew’s not very good at being sociable,” he whispers in Cora’s ear. “I guess he gets that from you – ow, no claws!”


End file.
